


OVERWATCH. oneshot series

by QueenCandyness



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-08-30 14:14:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8536336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenCandyness/pseuds/QueenCandyness
Summary: X reader one-shots of your fave characters.This is a collab with @sleepyfreak (Fevis) on Quotev.Stories written by Fevis will have (f) at the beginning. Stories written by me (Neige) will have (n) at the beginning. Enjoy.stories © ᖴεvιs , иєιgєoverwatch © BLIZZARDPEOPLE THAT HAVE BEEN WRITTEN SO FAR:-Lucio-Reaper-Junkenstein-Hanzo





	1. ⏩LUCIO⏪ sniper.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> written by fevis

**_a lucio x reader._ **

**_\- using they/them pronouns for reader.  
\- rather short fanfic, don't worry though the rest will be longer_ **

**_ENJOY._**  
   
~

That familiar dubstep had entered [name]'s ears. Lùcio.  
   
The support hero seemed to always have the [offsensive/defensive/tank]'s back. They were always thankful for him to be on their team. [name] was one of the newest members to Overwatch, along with a few other members. Lùcio had been one of the first members to become [name]'s friend, along with Tracer, D.Va, and Mei. That was around a few months ago. Though now, [name] was in King's Row with their team, and somehow, they had to deal with Widowmaker.

A Sniper.

Now.

That woman had always given them the cold chills. Not to mention with her cold-expression. Lets just say, They were now in a tough spot. They had fired their weapon at her, though sadly she had thrown down her Venom Mine. And Lets just said, [name] was rather low on health right now. Sadly, [name] far from their team. Unknown to them, a certain DJ was on the move searching for the hero.

[name] was pressed against the wall, hiding from the Sniper. They heard her familiar, "No-One can't hide from my sight...Come out.." Her voice was iced with venom. [name] had swallowed back, as they had peaked from their corner only to quickly draw back, dodging the head-shot that was sniped at them. They took a breathe as they fired another shot at her, they heard a grunt of pain from, before- Wait dubstep?

They looked over only to see that Lùcio had came, knocking Widowmaker from her hiding spot, seeming to fire her Widow's Kiss at the support hero. [name] took this chance, using their ultimate to kill the Sniper. [name] took heavy breaths as they sat themself down onto the ground, though a pair of skates had rolled over to them, and that smooth music entering their ears. "Lets get you healed up." Came a familiar voice.

. . .  
   
Lùcio.

They had felt much better, standing themselves up and smiling at the DJ. "Thanks..I owe you one."  
He grinned at them. "Hey its not a problem! What I'm suppose to do. Glad I got to you in time though! Could've been a goner." [name] smiled abit, though felt embarrassed. Sure they could've find med-packs though they were sctatered everywhere, plus, Widowmaker had a sharp eye on them. They could've at least tried.

"Now, Lets go [name]! We gotta defend the objective!" Lùcio had grinned out at them, before skating off back to the team. A faint blush had appeared on [name]'s cheeks. Was this love? Feelings for the the DJ? Ugh. It was too cute for [name] to handle. Though they quickly followed after him, full on health and ready to defend the objective, standing by the support hero's side.  
   
**_VICTORY._**


	2. ⏩REAPER⏪ time.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> written by fevis

**_a reaper x fem!dead!reader._ **

****_\- using she/her pronouns._  
\- before gabriel reyes/reaper become reaper au.  
\- headcanon down below!  
\- first part of the story takes place in the present.  
\- second part takes places in a memory-- the past. 

****_* HEADCANON_  
Reaper can see souls amongst the living. Almost like Ghosts really. He can see, hear, and possibly even  
feel them. 

**_ENJOY._**  
 

 

Why has god decided to take and destroy something that he once had. Someone very special to the Undead Hero's heart. His tight fist tighten around something as he stood in front of a old house. It was in the dead of the night and he was alone. Thank god. He had enough of those damn heroes. Reaper would've then then walked inside, pushing- er. The door kinda fell down. He snorted from behind his mask, deciding not to picking it up. He went around the door. It smelled awful in the home. The dust was dusty as well. The photos and painting on the walls were covered in dust. Its like someone died in the home.

Oh wait.

_Someone did_.

 

Reaper would've grunted as he walked around. Now you must be thinking, why the hell is he here? Its simple. He was told something by the Boy Scout. Something..very important. He remembered nothing on who he was in his past. But he never worried of it really. He was just some former hero. Not a big deal. Making his way up the old stairs, he would've stopped. He picked up a dusty photo from the wall. He would've wiped a section off with his thumb. There was a smiling [hair color] haired woman in the photo a hint of another person in the picture. Though he didn't worry of it. He dropped the photo, letting it tumble down the stair-case. He then continued to walk upstairs.

Once he had arrived upstairs, he spotted down the hallway a few windows had been broken, glasses scattered down the hallway. He took note of that. Though he'd go near that later. Reaper would've then pushed open a door. It was a small room- buckets of dried-up paint were on the floor. Only half of the room was painted. Yet on the side that was painted..little clouds were painted onto them. His eyes had narrowed from behind his mask. He had walked towards it. Once he was close, he extended his hand forward, his claws lightly toughing the wallpaper.

It was chipping. He let out a deep grunt from his mask. He turned, back towards the door, though had failed to noticed a child's crib in the room.

What had brought him back to this place? Just, a gut feeling and some information from the Boy-Scout. Walking out of the room, he headed down the hallway, though along the walls were more dusty painting and photos. He stopped abit. Further down the hallways was a complete mess. A few small tables were knocked over, dried up dead flower petals were scattered along the floor and- Crunch. He looked down at what he stepped on. Glass. He glanced up at the broken window beside him. Someone had broken in what seems like a long time ago. From the outside. Eyes had narrowed from beyond the Barn owl-like mask before Reaper turned and continued down the hallway.

He only kept wandering, why he felt drawn to this place, but he didn't know why.

Why? Why was this place so special to him?

Reaper would've then stopped as he felt something in the air. He grunted, and turned to look around. There was a cold feeling in the air. It made this man shiver, his talons buried into his hands.

It had to be nothing. Perhaps.

He was never wrong.

..Or was he?

Reaper paused in his steps. Something twisted deep down inside him. He heard a voice. It had echoed- a loud wailing like a banshee. Something clicked in his mind as he wraithed around the house's hallway, heading right for the bathroom where the sound came from. His taloned-hands pushed open the door, the bathroom wasn't that bad. The smell was awful than the rest of the house. He remembered that picture of the smiling woman. Was she the one to have died here? It smelt of death in here. He had looked at the mirror and at himself. The mask stared back at him. Though he saw something behind him. Somethi- No. Someone was glowing.  
He turned his gaze behind him, but the transparent being was gone. Missing already. It brought him excitement of the supernatural. Yet he was one himself.  
He would've exited the room, and then he left the home.  
 

 

_Life was precious, and [name] enjoyed her life. Her hand tucked around her husband's hand. Gabriel had fallen asleep against her while watching a movie. He mustve been worn out from his mission the previous night before hand. She smiled. Another hand resting on her seventh month old stomach. They'd soon have their first child._  
_[name] was excited, so was Gabriel. Yet he worried of his pregnant wife while he was away. What if she went into labor and he was away? What if she was alone? Gabriel would stress every day over her. She told him not to worry about her. She'll be fine._  
_But when the Swiss HQ had exploded, Gabriel was laying there, watching the ceiling. It burned, his body was killing him. But his wife remained in his thoughts. He couldn't die. No, he had to survive this! He had to get home to her. He couldn't leave her, she was weak! She couldn't fend for herself! Tears escaped Gabriel's eyes, dripping down his face. Was this his last time to be alive? It couldn't be. No..No he needed to go back. He wasnt ready to leave. His life had just started! He was gonna have a child- a child! Why has god abandon him?_  
_He saw an angel with blonde hair float down to him. She looked heavenly. Perhaps it was his time. He listened to her muffled voice.  
**" Heroes never Die. "** _

_Gabriel had been MIA for months. Even after [name] had given birth. She had trouble. The baby was fussy. Always angry. Just like their father. No one knows how S/o and the child died. It was reported they were murdered- brutally._

_She'll see him on the other side._


	3. ⏩JUNKENSTEIN⏪ control.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> written by neige

**a junkenstein x reader.  
** -gender neutral pronouns  
-this is also set in the real world, not a tale made up by Reinhardt.   
 

 

“Do not worry, we will take care of you.”  
   
Four people stood directly in front of you, eyes following your frantic pacing and glittering eyes. You continously gripped on your messy bundle of (h/c) hair. Bags were starting to form under your eyes from paranoia and lack of sleep.  
   
“I don’t get why you’re so worried--”  
   
“Why? _Why?_ ” you snap at Jesse, who looked away in guilt. “You,” you say, pointing at Jack, “out of all people should know why this is a bad idea. Horrible. Insane. Unlike you, they can’t come back from the “dead”. And this time none of you would come back if you go out there.”  
   
Your rant took a while to process, with the sound of biting lips and anxious fidgeting to accompany you. Exhausted, you sat next to the throne of the king, your body pressed against the frigid and cracked concrete. You can feel the pitiful eyes on you.  
   
Junkenstein’s army broke out and raided many cities, throwing the citizens off guard. Even popular celebrities such as Lucio and D.Va were gruesomly slaughtered during these impromptu ambushes. It was believed so anyway.  
   
Therefore, unlikely volunteers assigned themselves to defend important strongholds throughout the world; yours was Eichenwalde, Germany. The last stronghold. You were in Tokyo, Japan with Jack when you first encountered the doctor. It was only a glimpse you caught, but a glimpse described it all. Crazy, maniacal laughter to suit with it, and he is a very cheery spectator. You eventually discovered that the man never had control over the “zomnics” -- as the term raised rather quickly -- or his monster. He distanced himself from them, as not even his own creation would obey him so easily.  
   
You have met and discussed with other soldiers that were assigned on other strongholds but they all succumbed to defeat and some of them were executed. Others were spared by sheer luck or from the doctor’s orders. However, you never heard of him sparing a soldier or a fighter.  
   
The last time you saw Reinhardt, he smiled at you before equipping his mask, saying, “Justice will be done. I promise. While I’m gone, protect my home. I’ll be back.” Rome, Italy, the second last stronghold is his grave.  
   
Reinhardt was born a fighter at heart, and you? Not necessarily. You eagerly joined the defenders because most of your friends were soldiers or volunteered to help. With no job or close family, you thought you had nothing to lose. And with no fighting experience, you assigned yourself as the strategist -- the brain of the group.  
   
It was horrible, being forced to hear the broadcast of fallen soldiers, some friends, some unknown. You didn’t like to listen to it, especially when the reporter would announce the full names of the fallen during the attack. Then there was the news of people killing each other for multiple reasons, one of them being that all names of the fallen had to be shared, not just the soldiers who died protecting their cities. Out there was nothing like the serene yet eerie atmosphere in this castle.  
   
“(Y/N). Look at me. We need you now, and the doctor is on his way here. And you need to stay inside in case anything goes wrong.” Ana drags you out of your constantly changing thoughts. You scratch your nose and look up at her.  
   
“I’m sorry, it’s just that we lost so many people.”  
   
“I understand, but I would rather die with the honor of protecting humanity than to surrender.” Hanzo finally spoke, venom lingering on the last word. “What is the plan?”  
   
All eyes are on you now, trained. All of them have confident looks and postures that if you were to disagree, they would retaliate. With a defeated sigh, you pinch your nose, “All right then. Let’s get to work.”  
   
The entire group entered an isolated room and pulled out torn and dusty blueprints of the inside and outer parts of the castle, afraid that they would never be pulled out in the first place. You told them of the positions they should take.  
   
“Hanzo should be on the right of the door, up on that little platform. Jack should be on the left side-- no wait. Ugh. I’m sorry,” you cursed under your breath and rubbed your temples. The team silently stared at you, not wanting to cause a disturbance.  
   
“Your nanoboost,” you looked up at Ana, “should be directed to McCree to land one-shot kills. Should injure the Reaper by a lot so you can finish him off. You should also have him asleep so that way he doesn’t try to run away. As for the monster,” you directed your attention to everyone, “if he heals, Ana should throw her grenade to prevent that. I heard he’s sort of like a tank, so Jack and Ana should try to kill him while McCree and Hanzo take care of the others.”  
   
Jack nods at this, “And Dr. Junkenstein?” he questions.  
   
Dr. Junkenstein.  
   
You almost forgot.  
   
“He doesn’t do anything, I’ve seen him, he just hides in the back and watches. The coward.” you spat out before trying to regain your unbiased expression. “All of you will carry the speakers and the cameras that I’ve shown you all long before. I never thought I would say that I never wanted to use them, not in this case. Everyone knows what to do?”  
   
   
They all nod and left to the weaponry room to set up, however McCree stayed behind. “(Y/N). I see that doubt within you still, but this plan will work. You gotta have some hope, even if what you’re believing in is impossible to achieve. You wouldn’t want to go down with a sour face like that.”  
   
“It’s just difficult, Jesse.”  
   
“Heh,” he takes a long and sharp inhale from his cigar. The smoke somehow pleasant to smell other than the recollected dust and corpse on the throne. “I reckon.”

   
~

   
“Okay, you’re all good.” you complimented from behind your laptop, constantly switching from person to person. “Do your best out there.”  
   
“Yes (sir/ma’am).” he replied rhetorically before setting himself over the ledge.  
   
The zomnics managed to frighten you more than what you saw on television. Little gaping black ovals for eyes and torn, ragged bodies. Finger-like claws and no signs of legs in sight. Its plastered frown didn’t move an inch even after McCree shot it, instead it exploded.  
   
“Right, try not to stand so close, I forgot that our friendly doctor is a fan of explosives.” You noted that McCree inched further back. “It’s like having a doctor’s appointment, but it’s the other way around.”  
   
“Shit joke.” McCree states.  
   
“Yeah.” Ana agrees.  
   
Everything went well and according to plan, besides the couple of zomnics that pelted past Jack but Ana took care of it. You remained silent as you heard the four open up to each other.  
   
“So what is the difference between your alchemy and magic?”  
   
“Alchemy is a science. Magic? It’s something much darker.”  
   
“It’s so strange to see another American far from home.”  
   
“There’s a man like me fighting every war.”  
   
If they die, at least they would go down in a satisfied mood. And not alone. You’re so isolated from the team that you forgot that the only way to survive this is teamwork and trust. Maybe that’s what they’re trying to do, reveal their true character.  
   
“Nice shot archer.”  
   
“Hmph. Target practice.”  
   
They took down the Reaper already? You switched to Hanzo’s camera and noted the Reaper’s pumpkin head has a fatal arrow pierced through it.  
   
“Good job, Hanzo.”  
   
You hear a deep huff.  
   
“And McCree.”  
   
Suddenly, many of the blue zomnics arose, their chemically charged bombs strapped to their chest and their cannon arms flailing as blasts reached to mainly Hanzo and Jack. Their cameras crack, but not to the point where you can’t see what’s going on. However, in McCree’s camera, you note Dr. Junkenstein hiding behind a fort of crates, snickering and watching.  
   
“Hanzo and Jack, reach the far ends and be in sight so the blasts don’t hit the door and Ana can still support you. Don’t waste your biotic fields, Jack.” you warn the soldier when you caught his hands lingering near the device. He huffs in response and ran to the farthest corner the castle reaches and aimed his helix rockets at a group. The last remaining blue zomnic was struck to the ground.  
   
“Guys! Turn arou--!” Too late. Splinter and chips of wood dispersed the moment the lurking zomnic exploded.  
   
“It’s still holding on, don’t worry.” Ana comforts you.  
   
Things got elusive, the ground trembled as Junkenstein’s monster made an appearance. Its icky green skin glowing along with the metal pipes inside its stomach. Disgusting.  
   
This was when everything started to collapse. Ana put the monster to sleep, nanoboosted McCree, he landed a shot on him. It injured the monster but it didn’t hinder its chaos. The stone railings of the bridge were easily knocked off as it roared.  
   
“(Y/N)! What do we do?!” Jack angrily calls out as you stare in shock.  
   
“Um-- you and Ana go attack him. Hanzo and McCree takes care of the rest-- No!” You watched Ana’s camera when Junkenstein’s monster hooked Hanzo and dragged him around like a new toy. Without blinking, the monster bring Hanzo up to his face and shot a blast at his head, a black gaping hole formed.  
   
“Oh my--” your hands unintentionally on your face, watching in horror as his body fell. You stopped thinking, you didn’t know what was happening.  
   
Ana stood still in shock, her arm blocking the camera view as her hand reached her face.  
   
McCree shakily held his gun, missing every shot that fired at the zomnic that is directly in front of him.  
   
Zomnics were crammed up at the door, exploding in unison, causing serious damage to the doors.  
   
“Ana! McCree! Fight! What are you both doing?!” Jack calls out, seemingly unphased by Hanzo’s death, mostly because he wasn’t looking. He’s used to it.  
   
You tried to snap out of it, “McCree is that how you hold a damn gun? I could hire an infant who could shoot better than that! And Ana! Are you going to support your team? Didn’t you want them to return home safe?! Then do it!” you yell your orders, tears still falling.  
   
With newfound adrenaline, Jack shot another round of helix rockets at the monster’s head and before it could recover, she threw her grenade and aimed at least five darts at his head. You couldn’t see her face but you imagined it to look determined and pissed.  
   
The monster finally fell to the ground, his grunts dissolving as he, too, exploded like the rest. Relief returned to your face as you slumped on your chair, your heart racing way too fast. Wiping off the sweat on your forehead, you call out, “Are they still there? Tell me it’s over, please.”  
   
You still heard the groans of even more zomnics and you can tell that your team is already getting exhausted -- physically and mentally. Even McCree was missing more shots than usual which is unlikely of him.  
   
“You will all regret the day you laughed at Doctor Jamison Junkenstein!” The doctor himself appeared on the balcony, his messy hair and goggles glisten from the moonlight. This came as an utter shock to you. He actually got out of hiding?  
   
“(Y/N)--”  
   
“I’m working on it!” you cut Jack’s voice off and observed what you can from McCree’s camera since he was the highest and directly across from him. He was launching way too many grenades directly at the door, where Ana and Jack are huddled. Jack threw down his biotic field and Ana threw down her own grenade on the both of them to get healed.  
   
“Ana, sleep dart!” On your command, she shot at Dr. Junkenstein, but the dart flew right past him. Missed.  
   
A grenade was heading towards Ana’s face and she screamed. Suddenly, Jack pushes her to the ground, taking the fatal hit instead. You couldn’t see his face since Ana is frantically crawling backwards, the camera shaking violently. Two down. You rest your face in your hands, crying at the fact that your predictions are right from the start. You opened an extra tab, jotting down the names:  
   
“Hanzo Shimada.”  
   
“Jack Morrison.”  
   
“Jesse McCree.”  
   
“Ana Amari.”  
   
“They fought a long and hard battle against the doctor, their losses should not go in vain. Please tell their families too. One of them has a daughter, her name is Fareeha Amari. Protect her, just like her mother would want.”  
   
Even though two are lost so far, you’ve already given up. Your tears seeped through your fingers and vanished when it landed, staining the senile floor beneath you.  
   
“(Y/N)? Listen to me, darlin’. I can hear ya crying over all this fiasco,” he hears you try to halt your sniffling, “I hate to see you like this, believe me. Listen, close that laptop of yours and hide until you can get out.”  
   
“I can call for backup--”  
   
“No! It’ll be too late and we don’t want to lose more people. So please, hide. Don’t worry about us, just take care of yourself sweetheart, for me -- us.”  
   
You were about to respond, but he grasped the camera and ripped it off with only the sound of static to accompany you. Ana’s camera was so cracked beyond repair and barely anything audible came from it, even the screen glitched ever so frequently. With one last sigh, you transferred back to the tab and jotted down one last name:  
   
“(Y/N) (L/N).”  
   
Explosions and pounding echoed through the halls; they’re almost here. You close your laptop and panicked, sweat streaming down your forehead. You grip the blueprints next to you with sweaty and shaky palms, afraid that it would just vanish. It sounded impossible, to hide where no one would find you, but you have to try.  
   
With quick feet, you went up to a higher level of the castle and twisted and lunged yourself in a tiny room that could only fit at most three people. You dug yourself in the most isolated and coldest corner there is, shrouding yourself from the doorway -- which you much hated the fact that the castle’s indoors don’t actually have doors for their rooms.  
   
You tried to keep your breathing steady amongst the engrossing sounds of deep groans and growls prowling around. They clicked and shuttered, their chunks of metal sticking out constantly scraping the castle’s walls.  
   
“Is this what you wanted?” an unknown female voice rang, curiosity instead of concern lacing her tone. “Your revenge?”  
   
No one answers her, the only sounds you could hear above the invading zomnics were the pressured footsteps that paced quickly back and forth.  
   
“Looks like we were a little too late. Hmph.” a rough voice stated. “We’re not done yet. Look around, there’s bound to be something. Bloody hell.” he whispers the last part and it only struck you that the voice is Dr. Junkenstein. The female voice? Unheard of. Maybe a sister? She sounded a bit too old to be a girlfriend of his.  
   
“You mean something like this?” she speaks up again, the sound of papers being rolled over or turned made you tremble.  
   
“Eh? A laptop? Here?” he knocks on the device before opening it. “Heh, looks like a sneaky little mouse was watching us.”  
   
“These people… there are only four cameras and all of them are down. McCree, Hanzo, Ana, and Jack…” the female fills in, switching from each camera until a small surprised gasp escaped her lips. “‘Doctor, look here.”  
   
The laptop shifted and there was brief silence. “Who’s (Y/N) (L/N)?”  
   
You hear the female huff, “Doctor, there’s even five beds instead of four. And that weaponry arsenal over there only has four slots.”  
   
“Our little spectator is still roamin’ around here, defenseless. You know what to do.” Their footsteps echoed, each going their separate paths, determined to find your location. You, on the other hand, tried to think on how you would get out. Your heart raced as you try to piece together a plan, but nothing came together. All you did was wait for twenty minutes; their footsteps still attempting to search for you.  
   
You couldn’t get out, even if you tried. Zomnics were already infiltrating the higher levels and they’ll soon cover the corridor you’re hiding in. It was easier to give up in a sense, though the thought of giving up and facing those horrid zomnics was too much. They frighten you.  
   
And you didn’t want to see their faces in person. You wanted out.  
   
“I’m so sorry.” you whisper to yourself. Your legs finally had the energy to stand, trembling. You quickly peeked outside to see if the coast was clear. It was. So you tried to sprint down the hall and reach for the stairs until something cold and slender grabbed your arm; you flinched.  
   
The zomnic stopped you dead in your tracks and you gasped, eyes wide as plates. Your heart raced tremendously as you try to pull yourself away from it. The frigid hand remained and the zomnic grumbled even louder.  
   
“Shit! Just let me go!” you screech at it, tears fogging your vision.  
   
The zomnic remained unresponsive until you jerked your arm, catching the zomnic off guard and letting you go in the process. With this chance, you ran off, not bothering to look back.  
   
You panted as you pelt across the hall and up the stairs -- your footsteps echoing loudly. Your hand trailed the wall aside you, afraid that you would fall.  
   
Suddenly, you felt yourself crash and collapse on the concrete floor. Your mind went many directions and you groan at the upcoming pain.  
   
“Oof.”  
   
Oh no. You bumped into a person.  
   
You rolled yourself over despite the tolling pain from the crash. There’s no way you can stop here. No.  
   
“Oi. I’m gonna have to ask you stop. Don’t even think about running.”  
   
It was him.  
   
You turn to face him, but the doctor was already crouching, his tall figure looming over you. You could practically feel the color drain from your face.  
   
His hair suited a crazy scientist look -- messy gray locks that was most likely dyed. Looking closer upon his chin, he has a stubble that’s ready to sprout. His goggles reflected your face and it displayed your defeated nature. “(Y/N) (L/N)?” he called your name. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t expect someone like you roamin’ about. Had me worried.”  
   
He ruffled your hair in a joking manner, forcing parts of your hair to stick out. You groaned as you try to push yourself up. You felt his gloved hands snake around your arms, trying to help as well.  
   
“I don’t understand. Are you trying to help me?”  
   
“I’m not who you think I am, mate.”  
   
A smile was stitched upon his face and his eyes lit up all of a sudden. He interlocks his fingers with yours and you jolt in surprise, scared of what he’s planning to do. He then tugs you along down the flight of stairs, forcing you to hurry up with his pace.  
   
“W-what are you doing?”  
   
“I’ve got an idea.”  
   
Your head throbbed at the possibilities. He didn’t make it any better.  
   
He finally reached the throne room where a lady in a witch outfit resided, a staff connected to the end of a broom in hand. She arched an eyebrow at the two of you, but nonetheless, remained respectfully silent.  
   
“I found them all the way upstairs.”  
   
“I see that. What I don’t understand is why they’re still alive. If you needed more allies, I can resurrect your monster and my servant back, you know that.”  
   
“I know that, you doubt me so much.” The grip on your fingers tightened.  
   
She huffs, “I just want to know if you’ve finished with your revenge on this place. Which I can tell it clearly wasn’t worth it since the king is dead and the castle had been evacuated,” she turns to you, “and what is their purpose?”  
   
You can tell that she’s angry, but Dr. Junkenstein’s face remained positive. “My revenge? Oh no. We’ve only begun.”  
“I don’t understand how I fit into this.”  
   
“You?” he shifts his body towards you with both of hands holding one of yours close to him. His eyes engrossed yours. “I have big plans for you, don’t worry.”  
   
His eyes were bright, and the fact that he looked so genuine and happy actually frightened you. He is an unpredictable man.  
   
He opens his mouth once more to say,  
   
“Just so you know, you’re under _my_ control.”


	4. ⏩HANZO⏪ empty.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hanzo x reader.  
> written by Neige.  
> -gender-neutral  
> -If anyone has any suggestions for one-shots, please leave a comment. Remember, suggestions are not requests, it's just something to help me base it off of something. Can suggest generics like McCree x fem!reader, but please don't be super detailed with them. Also, these are to help me! Not sure if Fevs wants to take in suggestions but she can if she wants to. (No, I will not make a second part to a one-shot I write).

Hanzo never thought his heart would race in a very fast motion. It was extremely upsetting. The way his heart became heavy with dread and sorrow reminded him of the moment he felt when he killed his brother. Despite only having felt this once before, the archer knew what the next stage would be -- emptiness. This time, however, he wasn't sure if that’s the case; though, he knew that things never went his way.  
   
It was getting hard to breathe. No, it wasn’t the fact that the room was small, or the fact that he clustered himself in a corner with you in his arms. He was panicking more than he should be.  
   
He held you tightly on his lap, his arms engulfing you as if cradling a baby. The only noise that filled the air of the secluded room was the heavy panting from your parted lips. He couldn’t see much of you due to the darkness except the fact that most of your torso was exposed and covered in a distinct dark red color. The scent and sight was too familiar – you’re bleeding. Too much. The pooling of your blood around his knees stirred unease and concern in his mind.  
   
The haunting sound of footsteps is what reeled him out of his hazy state. Talon. It appeared that they sent more soldiers to scout for the both of you in his home -- The Shimada Castle.  
   
Hanzo averted his attention back to you when he noticed that you kept squirming in his grasp. “How is it?” he asked you, managing to keep his steady and stern voice.  
   
He noted that your body was starting to get really nervous and sweaty under the current circumstance, but unfortunately there was no bed or cushion he can put you on. Talon had chased the both of you and this isolated room was the only place to hide at the time. It’s not like he could move hiding spots; Talon was drawing near.  
   
“It hurts… it hurts so much,” you eventually replied, panting harder than usual. Hanzo fixed his position so your head can lay on his chest. He went to grab your hand despite it being drenched in blood from attempting to cover your wound. “I-I’m so sorry, Hanzo. All of this is my fault.”  
   
“Hmph. You surrender so easily…” he held your palm and traced small circles on your blood-soaked skin. He didn’t know how to comfort people very well, since he was a descendant of assassins. Consoling others was deemed as weak and not once in his life did he receive help from his past until you came in. He swore that you were an angel sent from above, even though you were a spy sent from Talon to recruit or finish him off.

“Heh, it’s funny that even when I’m dying, you still have the same face and the same vibe.” A sigh emitted from your lips, following a nasty cough. Hanzo wasn’t sure if it was bile or blood that escaped your throat. “Just leave me before… they find you…” your voice started to trail off and Hanzo’s eyes widened. After a moment of silence, you started to stir a bit, slightly relieving his anticipation.  
   
He clicked his tongue, nodding off your demand, “If you think that I am going anywhere then you must be mistaken.” An idea struck his mind and he quickly reached for his bow. He started to tamper with the wire until he felt a gentle hand on his wrist. He looked below to see your half-lidded eyes carrying a strong emotion.  
   
“Are you going to finish me off?” Absurd. It wasn’t what he was planning on doing.  
   
Hanzo huffed at your question, “Cease your nonsense, I’m trying to save you.” He can practically hear the forceful stomping of feet below him. Meanwhile, his face got more scrunched each time when he tugged at the wire. He was no medical expert, but if he can at least try to close the wound by bounding a part of his ruined glove with the wire then maybe there was still hope.  
   
“Stop it. U-Use it to protect yourself. We both know that it won’t work, it’s too late.”  
   
He nearly cried out in frustration from being plagued with too many emotions. The wire was slicing at his own fingers, causing it to be stained with his own blood. Reluctantly, he placed the bow back down after the many failed attempts.  
   
“Why are you trying to help me? You’re wasting your time when you can go ahead and flee! Please…” Your words cut short as you started coughing again from your angry burst.  
   
“I am in your debt,” Hanzo confessed and held your body closer. With his free hand, he tilted your head towards his exposed chest. Without struggle, you quickly buried your head in his chest and latched onto his clothes with your free hand. “Please, let me help you…”  
   
You started wincing in pain; he could tell from your spastic movements. “No, stop. Even if you managed to cover my wound, I’m bleeding internally. Just do me one more favor and go…”  
   
“Why did you stay with me?”  
   
“H-Huh?”  
   
Suddenly, tears streamed down his cheeks, catching you by surprise. “You were assigned to assassinate me like many others, yet you didn’t want to. You stayed with me. Why?” The tears didn’t stop much to his stubborn heart.  
   
“Hanzo…” your voice trailed off again, “I stayed because you reminded me of who I was.”  
   
“Ex-Excuse me?” he stuttered, and you giggled.  
   
“I was empty too. The way you struggle to fix your mistakes with a high heart made me admire you. I’d given up everything before I met you – family, friends, and amends, literally everything. Talon was never my guide, you were.” Inevitably, you coughed up all the blood stuck in your throat. “You were my everything when I had n-nothing…”  
   
Hanzo felt your trembling hand make contact with his face; your gentleness as you wiped his tears made him cry more as he yearned for your comfort. He let you caress and clean his face until he no longer felt the warmth. He quickly noticed that your hand fell slowly to your side and he held onto it. Your heavy panting diminished into slow and soft breathing and you fluttered your eyes closed with no strain.  
   
Without a word or whisper, his chaste yet soft lips met your plump ones with a gentle touch. He remained his tame kiss until he felt the heat of your body leave. Just before he retracted from the kiss, he endearingly whispered near your ear, “(Y/N), I admired you so much.”  
   
Unknowingly, his tears stained your face as he closed his eyes and grieved, still holding your corpse which was lighter to carry much to his sorrow and false hope.  
   
He continued to mourn, occasionally and effortlessly placing an ear on your chest. He needed to hear something, anything. He refused to return to the fate of solitude once more.  
   
Abruptly, a dark mist shrouded the room, making its way toward Hanzo. Before he could react, the barrel of a shotgun was plastered against his forehead. He noted that the man was dressed in a black cloak adorning a ghost white owl mask. The man gripped his gun tightly, appearing angry. It had to be Reaper.  
   
He did not spare a glance at his bow and kept holding you tight.  
   
“It was annoying tracking you down, Shimada. Fortunately, (Y/N) left an obvious red trail to this room.” Reaper’s voice was filled with malice and he huffed at the mention of your name. “I’m afraid I can’t let you loose knowing information about Talon.”  
   
Hanzo didn’t retaliate, instead he leaned towards the barrel of the gun, gazing down at the floor. His poor heart was shattered.  
   
“Any regards?”  
   
In Hanzo’s mind, he repeated his last words that he whispered only to you. His world flashed white for a second before vanishing into an inky abyss.  
   
He hoped to find you again. That way his world wouldn’t stay empty forever.


End file.
